


The Birth of a Fairy

by AnnieVH



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Babies, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Humor, Pregnancy, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8938291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: When Rumple and Belle find out they are having a baby girl, they seek the advice of the Blue Fairy on how to handle a possible fairy child in what is already a complicated family, but what she says makes Rumple worry that maybe his mother's magic didn't skip a generation after all. This takes place after season 6.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: new baby announcement  
> Notes: this is a gift for @girl-with-cat-eyes. I've been toying with the idea of Fairy!Rumple for a while now and I was so happy I could fit that into this prompt. I hope you enjoy this crazy idea and that it makes you smile.  
> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana

Were it not for the tragedy attached to it, Juliet would have been on the top of his list. Belle was rather fond of that book but she invariably reached the final act sobbing her eyes out. Calling their daughter Juliet might mean that Belle wouldn't be able to call her without being overwhelmed with sadness and he'd like to avoid that if possible.

Rumpelstiltskin drummed on the desk before him and moved on to the next name on his list to mull it over, his eyes on the door, awaiting his wife. He feared that Mother Superior might come in before Belle arrived but, given that she was already twenty minutes late, Rumple had the feeling the fairy was purposefully avoiding him, which served him right. He didn’t want her company any more than she wanted his. In fact, her office was so unpleasantly warm he wondered if she hadn’t turned on the heater just to see if he’d leave.

Well, she had another thing coming if she thought she could kick him out this easily. He busied himself with the long list of baby names he’d been struggling with and used a nearby brochure ( _How to keep your wings clean_ , it said) and used it to fan himself as he waited.

He’d just crossed Viola off the list and was giving serious consideration to Gertrude when Belle finally came in. He put down the brochure and got up to give her a hug.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Neal was late.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I got myself busy.”

He indicated the brochure on the desk.

“They need instructions?” she said, and though any other day the subject might have amused her, today it only seemed to frighten her.

Rumple still forced himself to smile. “I'm sure Mother Superior is only being thorough.”

Belle unfolded the brochure and looked at the colorful pictures, which detailed the wings of a fairy unfolding from inside their skin through two holes in her back.

“Goodness, this looks painful.”

“I'm sure it's not,” he said and took the brochure away from her. Painful or not, the pictures were still disturbing. “But you can ask Mother Superior that when she arrives.”

As if her name had been enough to summon her, the fairy appeared at the door, a large smile on her lips. “Belle! How nice to see you!” To him, she only offered a nod, “Mr. Gold.”

“Fairy,” he mumbled, trying to make the title sound neutral and not contemptuous but falling short.

“I’ll be with you, shortly,” she promised. “Please, make yourselves at home.”

“Turn off the heat, will you?,” he shouted after her. “It’s April, for goodness’ sake.”

Mother Superior’s voice reached them from the corridor, saying, “The heat is off.”

 _Liar_ , he thought. He was sweating through his shirt now. His wife, though, seemed to be fine, which was probably due to the fact that she was wearing a dress, and not a three piece suit.

“Do we have to be here?” he asked, already knowing the answer he was about to get.

“Rumple, please, you promised me you’d have a better attitude about it,” Belle said, trying to be patient despite the fact that they’d already had that argument five times in the last forty eight hours.

“We could find everything we need in my library, Belle. You can read Fairy language.”

“But she has first hand experience with this. If our child were to be a Savior, wouldn’t you go to Emma?”

“Yes, but... there are so many fairies. Why does it have to be... _her_?”

“She’s Gideon’s godmother!”

He sighed. “I still cannot believe you did that.”

“Don’t complain, you can choose the next one.”

Right. Not only was he stuck on an endless list of names, he now had to decide which of the annoying family members was the least detestable one and entrust them with his precious baby girl. Having children was a much simpler affair when you had no extended family.

Mother Superior returned and Belle leaped to her feet to give her a tight hug. Rumple offered her his hand to help her off the chair, even though there was no need. Belle was only eight weeks into her second pregnancy and not even showing, but it felt good to be there for her once again.

“I’m sorry to keep you both waiting,” Mother Superior said. “Look at you, Belle! You’re glowing already!”

“I’ll enjoy that,” Belle said. “Pretty soon I’ll just be fat.”

“Nonsense, a new mother always looks lovely.”

The fairy’s eyes focused on Rumpelstiltskin and her smile turned cold. “I hope you’re taking good care of her, Mr. Gold.”

Rumple mumbled, “Hm-hm” because, if you had nothing nice to say, you should say nothing at all, or so he'd heard. Mother Superior asked them both to sit down before taking her chair on the other side of the desk.

“What can I do for you?”

Belle looked at him. Rumple raised his eyebrows slightly. This was _her_ idea, she might as well be the one to do all the talking. Besides, the fairy clearly didn’t want to deal with him.

“We were hoping that you’d be able to answer a few questions for us. Regarding your kind.”

“Fairies,” Rumple said. “Though if you’re too busy, we can always just read a book.”

“I’m never too busy for an old friend,” she said, and Rumple didn’t fail to notice the use of singular. Not that he cared. His dislike for fairies hadn’t improved much since his mother almost destroyed his family, less than a year ago.

“You see,” Belle explained, “we just found out that I’m having a little girl.”

There was a long silence that should have been filled with congratulations and squeals of happiness. The fairy, however, went quiet and her smile faded.

“Ah,” she said. “I see.”

“Yes.”

“Pardon me for asking, but how can you be sure you’re having a girl? It seems a little early on.”

“Mary Margaret has this... pendent,” Belle explained. “It belonged to her mother-in-law and it can tell you the sex of your child.”

“I told her not to do it,” Rumple said. “Nothing good ever comes from knowing the future.”

“So you're here because you want to know if there’s a chance that your daughter might take after her...” Her eyes darted to Rumpelstiltskin, and then back to Belle. “Her _grandmother_.”

There was tension in that word. Rumple wouldn’t be surprised to find out the Blue Fairy had given thought to that possibility before, perhaps even more than he had. It was no secret that she disapproved of fairies having romantic attachments and children, as that was simply not the fairy way. A long line of fairy magic being passed on by blood, and that of the Black Fairy nonetheless, was a difficult concept to come to terms with.

“That is not why we’re here,” he said. “We know there is a chance. A rather good chance.”

Mother Superior looked at him with a little defiance in her eyes. “And if she is? Will you disapprove?”

“I have no problem with having a fairy daughter,” Rumple answered, getting defensive. “But given how little it is known of fairy children, Belle thought that you might have some invaluable insight. Lord knows why-”

“Rumple...” she said, touching his arm.

Rumpelstiltskin huffed, but went quiet.

“I just don’t know what to expect, that is all,” Belle said. “Will this influence my pregnancy at all? Should we expect her to develop any powers early on?”

Mother Superior leaned back in her chair and thought about it.

“Fairies don’t have children,” she said, after a moment.

Rumple open both arms in a broad gesture, calling attention to himself, as if to say, “Aren't you forgetting something?”

That gave the fairy pause. Then, she said, “Granted. They don’t have children _anymore_. The gift was once passed on from mother to daughter, but now that has changed, and it’s been decided that that is for the best. There is a possibility that your daughter will have fairy magic,” she continued, “but that is a very slight chance.”

“Why is that?”

“For one thing, it skipped one generation already. Fairies can only pass their magic down to female progeny. In fact, as far as our history goes, you are the very first male child of a fairy.”

Her voice denoted a certain curiosity, as if his very existence puzzled her. It'd confused his own mother as well, she'd made that point very clear in her taunts. _My child was to be strong and powerful,_ _I could never love something as barren as you_ , those had been her words. As a male, he was born without fairy magic, and such an aberration had no place among the fae folk.

“Do I get a prize for that?” he asked.

It hadn't been his intention to sound bitter but that was how the words left his mouth. To her credit, Mother Superior seemed to understand that she'd touched a sensitive topic and switched her focus to Belle.

“If she does inherit magic,” she said, “it will likely come from your husband's powers and it should manifest in the first couple of years. However, in the off chance that the Black Fairy’s magic somehow got passed down from him, then you won’t have to worry about it until much later. Fairy magic doesn’t show before a young lady hits puberty. And it shouldn’t affect your pregnancy either.”

Belle visibly relaxed at that information, the hand that had been clutching his arm softening its grip. “And if it comes to it, what should we be prepared for?”

“Nothing too extreme. Mood swings, though that is given with teenagers. Some physical discomfort.”

Rumple smirked. “Besides zits and cramps, you mean?”

“Something more along the lines of hot flashes and nausea.”

Slowly, Rumpelstiltskin stopped smiling. “Pardon me?”

“Hot flashes, it means she’ll feel a little warm from time to time. Headaches are also common. Back and neck pain are to be expected, and they can become severe when her wings are being formed, but it shouldn’t last longer than a couple of days.”

Belle nodded along, but Rumpelstiltskin stared at the fairy with eyes full of horror, which made her smile. “It seems that I scared your husband.”

“Oh, indeed,” Belle said.

“How frequent is the nausea?”

Both women stared at him, and then broke into laughter, as if they were sharing a private joke that he couldn’t understand even if he tried. When he looked at them in confusion, Belle explained, “Don’t worry, love. Girls get used to much worse at that age. God knows I did.”

Mother Superior gave her a nod in agreement.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.

“You won’t really have to worry about that for another ten or so years, Mr. Gold-”

“Out of curiosity.”

When she didn’t answer, Rumple insisted, “We are here to ask these questions, aren’t we?”

“It varies,” she finally said. “A couple of times a week, usually. But the entire process shouldn’t take longer than a couple of months, and it all stops once she gets her wings.”

“Wings,” he repeated, feeling numb, eyes darting to the brochure. Come to think of it, Belle was right. Those things looked painful.

“Listen, Belle,” said the fairy, ignoring him again, “in case your daughter does come into fairyhood, it’d be an honor to educate her myself.”

“She already has a father well versed in magic,” Rumpelstiltskin protested, snapping into attention once again.

“This isn’t just about learning to channel her powers, Mr. Gold. There is an entire culture that your daughter should learn about. We have our history, our rituals, our very own language.”

“In which her mother is fluent, as you recall.”

“We’ll give some thought to it, Mother Superior,” Belle said, before a fight could erupt between them. “And we appreciate the offer, truly. Thank you for your time.”

 

*

 

Rumpelstiltskin exploded the moment they got to the parking lot. Belle could only be glad it hadn’t been in Mother Superior’s office because his exact words were, “Our daughter is _not_ joining her cult.”

“Rumple...”

“She’s not, Belle. I forbid it.”

“This isn’t something we have to talk about now, Rumple. You heard her. On the off chance we do have a fairy daughter, it will be at least ten years before we have to deal with it.”

“She sure was eager to recruit her now.”

Belle sighed. “Rumple, please, be nice. She worries about our children. And you know this is something we’ll have to consider, if it comes to it.”

“Why?” he asked, looking at her over the hood of the Cadillac. “I could teach our daughter. Both our children.”

“I have no doubts that you’re going to make a wonderful tutor,” Belle said. “But she has a point. There isn’t much we know about their sisterhood. It’s more than just spells and fairy dust. Shouldn’t our daughter learn about that part of her?”

Rumpelstiltskin stared at her in disbelief. “The part about the grandmother who gained a reputation for kidnapping infants and who almost tore our family apart?”

“I just mean-”

“No, Belle, I think she could do without that.”

He slipped inside the car before Belle could answer. She allowed him a couple of minutes in silence before getting in as well and trying again.

“This isn't what I wanted,” she said, as her husband tapped the steering wheel impatiently but refused to start the car. “It's a complication we were not expecting, as if our family isn't a complication on its own. There isn't a part of it that won't be hard to explain. I mean, just how everyone is related should take about three days.”

Rumpelstiltskin didn't laugh.

“All I’m saying is that your mother is part of her history, in more ways than either of us would like. But if we’re careful about it, I don’t know, something good might come of it.”

Belle watched him as he seemed to consider what she’d told him. His right hand pulled at his tie, loosening up the knot. There was sweat on his brow and it occurred to Belle that this whole affair must have been twice as stressful for him as it had been for her. When he finally spoke, he didn’t bother looking at her.

“There is nothing good about a fairy, Belle.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

To begin with, his immortality was gone, which made him vulnerable to trivial things, such as an innocent and unproblematic cold. There were ways to explain the occasional dizziness that had been catching him unaware, or the fact that he was currently sweating through his shirt. It was a cold. A flu. A flu and a fever. It had nothing to do with magic. Mortals were built that fragile way and he'd just forgotten all about it. After all, he'd never been a strong man before taking on the Dark Curse.

Yes, that made perfect sense. It was a common sickness that had nothing to do with his bloodline. There was no reason to overthink this and make it into something bigger than it actually was, except...

Except that it had been ten months now, and those symptoms had come and gone and they always returned in the end. The more he thought about them, the more what that blasted fairy had told him made sense. The fact that it had taken him so long to even consider this possibility made him feel naive.

He should've known something was wrong that night, when his mother loomed over his pitiful, pleading figure, as he begged her to spare the lives of his sons. She'd looked down on him with such disgust Rumpelstiltskin thought she'd take and crush his heart right then and there. Right behind her, Belle was kneeling on the tarmac, cradled Gideon with her right arm while her left hand was holding on to Neal's fainted body, as if that could protect him.

If only he could save them. If only he could give Baelfire the chance to be with his son again.

“What a miserable boy you are,” was all that his mother told him before plunging a hand into his chest and squeezing his heart.

His screams didn't seem to appease her. The terms of her deal had been clear: he'd hand over his Curse to her and his family would get to live. It didn't say anything about making this painless, and it wasn't. It felt like having his very soul ripped from inside his body. She could've earned his Curse through murder, yet she'd chosen _this_ just so she could leave him humiliated and helpless, nothing but an empty shell of a man, devoid of magic and easy for her to do as she pleased.

It lasted one terrifying moment where the Black Fairy spread her wings – as large as a dragon's, the edges as sharp as glass – and stood victorious before him. Finally all powerful. Finally avenged.

When magic surged through him, it came as a shock to her just as much as to Rumpelstiltskin, which was probably the only reason he'd stood a chance against her. Power ripped through him and sent her flying across the townline before either of them even understood what'd happened.

In the blink of an eye, there was magic running in his veins again – and the most powerful being in all the realms was banished into a land without magic, where all the powers in the universe would do her no good.

Yes, now that he could look back with a clear head, he should've noticed how strange it all was, but he'd been too overwhelmed with relief to think rationally. The monster was gone, his family was safe, and he'd been allowed to keep his powers. It was simply easier to rationalize what had happened, instead of getting to the bottom of it.

“She asked for my Curse, not my magic. That has to be it,” he'd told Belle and the rest of the family when that question was raised later that night.

“So the darkness is gone?” Emma had asked, and he could see Belle watching him, eyes full of expectation as she clutched their son to her chest.

“It is with her now, the Black Fairy,” he'd said. “Great load of good it will do her outside our boarders.”

Regina was the one to ask what everyone was thinking, “And just how powerful is the magic you have left?”

He'd flexed his fingers and paid attention to his own body, curious about that question as well. What was left of his magic didn't feel quite like before and it'd require some experimentation before he could truly understand his new limits – not that he'd admit to that out loud.

Hi answer was, “I suppose we'll find that out the next time you and I have a disagreement.”

There were no disagreements, though. After that night, the town quieted down and the citizens of Storybrooke went back to living uneventful lives. Even his own life fell back into place, piece by piece. His son was back, he had the chance to be a father to Gideon, and Belle was willing to work on their relationship.

Happiness could make a man blind. He didn't care for the regular bounds of nausea nor the migraines. The discomfort of mortality seemed like a small price to pay compared to the joy of having it all.

It was only six months later, when the smell of flowers began affecting him that Rumpelstiltskin allowed himself to think about that. He'd never cared for flowers very much. The spinners who'd raised him used to keep them around the house to fight the smell of livestock, and Belle insisted in decorating the Dark Castle with them to bring life to the place, but Rumpelstiltskin never thought much of them before.

Now, he was keeping a bouquet in pretty much every room of the house, and his shop.

The way to rationalize it was to blame it on Belle. He wanted her to feel welcomed now that she'd finally agreed to move back in. Yes, that explained why there were so many, but not why the smell of lilies made him smile, nor why he seemed more susceptible to their perfume at all. Just the month before, he'd sniffed his way into Moe French's shop and into an awkward meeting that culminated in a terrible fight.

He'd spent ten months like this, with a rationalization ready on the tip of his tongue. And then, came Belle's announcement of her second pregnancy, something that, on a whim of joy, she'd decided to do during their lunch date at Granny's, probably expecting her husband to, maybe, tear up a bit. But his reaction was... more than just emotional. It verged on a breakdown.

One moment, he was staring at her in disbelief, the next he'd began to sob. Loudly. And it only grew louder and more desperate from there.

What started with people turning around with curiosity, asking, “What is going on? Are they breaking up again? Pregnant? Well, congratulations!” ended with the patrons staring in disbelief or even excusing themselves. The pirate had locked himself in the bathroom so he wouldn't have to deal with him, and even Regina had been too shocked for mockery.

Archie, always in favor of strong demonstrations of emotion and letting your feelings out of your chest, had made everything even worse by following suit and sobbing more grossly than Rumple was, saying, “I am so happy for you! Your story is so beautiful and you guys deserve a break!”

And then Rumpelstiltskin hugged Archie.

Rumpelstiltskin, who hated the very idea of touch unless it came from his wife or his children, had taken the first step to _hug_ Archie.

 _Archie_!

He was never going to live this down.

The ride back home had been a silent one, as Belle tried to think of a sensitive way to approach the subject. When they arrived home, Belle tried to start conversation by saying, “Granny makes the best burger, doesn't she?”

Rumpelstiltskin cut in, saying, “It must have been Regina.”

“What?”

“It must have been Regina.”

“To do... what?”

“I'm not sure yet,” he said. “Slip something into my drink, I think. Yes, that's how she did it. Some sort of disinhibitor, they're easy to make once you get the proper ingredients.”

“Right...” Belle said. “Of course, there is the _other_ explanation. You know. The one where you just... got a little emotional.”

“But I didn't get _a little_ emotional,” he said, frustrated that she was downplaying the incident.

“Granted,” Belle told him, being careful with her words. “You went a little overboard.”

Rumple fixed red-rimmed, swollen eyes on her.

“More than a little,” she admitted. “But given what you were put through, I think that was long overdue.”

Rumple made a “Humph!” sound but didn't disagree with her, so Belle went on.

“Think about it, love. Not a year ago, you were forced to throw your mother into exile to save your sons' lives. You found out that that horrible woman had brought Neal back from the dead. We finally managed to mend our relationship. And now with a baby on the way-”

“Ugh, not again!”

Rumple snatched his handkerchief out of his breast pocket and pressed it to his eyes.

“Taking everything into consideration-” Belle continued.

“Let's stop taking things into consideration, please!”

“You're long overdue for a good cry, that is all I'm saying. I don't mind it. I think it's a good thing.”

“Bae looked mortified.”

Belle smiled. “Embarrassing their children is a father's prerogative.”

“Well then, I'm happy to be fulfilling my part,” he said, with bitterness.

Belle took his hand and made him sit down so she could pass an arm around him. Once he calmed down, he said, “I don't feel like my old self anymore.”

“That's because the curse is gone-”

“No, I've been rid of the curse before, that is not it.”

Belle waited for him to organize his thoughts.

“This magic doesn't feel _mine_. It's not the magic I used to have. It flows like water under your skin, it's thin and malleable.”

“What else could this be, Rumple?”

He shook his head. “I don't know. But what if it's messing with me? I don't feel like my old self.”

“You're not.”

He looked at her.

Belle shrugged. “I like the new you, though. He's a good dad, and he makes me laugh.”

“Yes, but making you laugh is not that difficult.”

Belle poked him in the ribs. That cracked a smile on his lips.

“This will take some getting used to, but everything will be fine,” she promised him. “You'll see. We have Neal and Gideon back. We have another child on the way. A nice house. A little bit of magic. Sounds to me like a happy ending.”

It was a happy ending, which explained why Rumpelstiltskin didn't put more effort into getting to the bottom of it. Whatever it was that was messing with his head, it could only cause heartbreak. He decided to brush the incident as an emotional breakdown, which Dr. Hopper made sure to discuss at length in their couple's therapy. Belle was right. With the horrible life he'd had, he was long overdue for a moment of hysteria.

But now... with what the fairy had told them... everything seemed to make sense.

No, no, his own mother had said that her magic had skipped him because of his gender. That had been the reasons why she'd abandoned him in the first place, because barren children had no place among fairies. There had to be another reason.

But what?

“Have you thought of a name yet?”

Belle's voice pulled him away from his thoughts. He took his eyes from the road and asked, “Hm?”

“Have you thought of a name yet? I know you, Rumple. You probably have a list a foot long by now.”

“It's... a little longer than that,” he admitted.

“Don't I get to know at least the top ten?”

Rumple thought about it. He was currently working his way from fifty possibilities, and didn't feel anywhere near a conclusion. No name seemed special enough for his little girl. All he knew was that he was going to teach her how to spin, and how to dance like a lady, and how to make beautiful magic.

That was, if the Blue Fairy didn't get to her first.

“You're worried,” she said.

“I'm not.”

“Yes, you are. I can see it on your face.”

He smiled. “Am I that easy to read?”

“Like a book.”

“A Greek tragedy?”

“A mystery,” she corrected him. “A rather interesting one.”

Rumple reached out to pat her leg. He'd missed her so very much during the months they'd been apart.

“Are you worried because of your mother?”

“Always, but not for the reason you think. I don't think our daughter will be like her. I don't worry about that.” He shook his head. “No more than I worry that Gideon will be as dark as me.”

“Darkness isn't hereditary.”

“You've met my parents, haven't you?”

“What is it that truly worries you, Rumple?”

He thought about it. “I don't know what to do with that part of her.”

He could see Belle nodding as she considered his words.

“You know I need to ask,” she said, after a moment.

“Ask what?”

“Are you going to try to take it from her-”

“No, god, no.”

“Because we've been down this road before-”

“I will love her any way she comes out of you. That is not it.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“I don't know, it's...”

He thought of the nausea, the flowers, the breakdown, the words Mother Superior had given them.

“It feels as if that woman is still chasing me,” he concluded.

“She's not,” Belle said, her voice so loving and sweet he could almost believe her. “She's far away, somewhere she can no longer cause us any harm.”

Rumpelstiltskin opened his mouth to say that he knew that, but closed it quickly when he felt a sharp, piercing pain in his back.

_No. No, not this, anything but this..._

“Darling, there's no reason to go so fast,” Belle said, when he stepped on the accelerator.

“We're already late,” he said, without looking at her. “There's no saying what Gideon is doing to poor Bae.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Does that mean I need to pack up on glitter and tutus?” Neal asked.

Belle laughed. “Not for another ten years, but yes, that might be a good idea.”

He looked down at Gideon, who was still sitting on his lap, though he'd began to squirm the moment he saw his mother walk into his playroom. “Hear that, buddy?” Neal said. “You're gonna be a little wizard, and your sister will be a little fairy.”

Gideon threw his arms up saying, “Maah!”

“Yup, he approves.”

“Either that or he wants his mommy.”

“No, no, I know what my kid brother is thinking. Tell her, Gid.” He held up the baby like a puppet and made a funny voice. “ _Yeah, mommy, Neal is super smart and he is always right._ ”

“What kind of accent is that?”

“Have you heard the way you guys talk?”

Gideon stretched out his arms to Belle. “Mah! Mah!”

“Come here, my darling,” she cooed, picking him up. “Mommy will save you from your crazy big brother.”

Gideon wrapped his arms around her neck and grabbed a fistful of her hair. Neal crossed his legs at the ankles and made no mention to get off the floor, nor to pick up the many toys he'd spread in the room.

“You boys had a lot of fun, didn't you, sweetheart?”

“Hey, kid.”

Gideon looked down at Neal.

“Ask mommy if your sister will have a weird name. Like Pink, or Green, or Blue, or Tinker Bell.”

“I don't know, _Baelfire_. Why don't you ask your father, _Rumpelstiltskin_ , what name he's going to choose?”

Neal winced. “I cannot believe you're letting him be in charge of that.”

“He has good taste. Besides,” she lowered her voice and peeked over her shoulder to see if her husband was anywhere to be found, “I'm giving you the power to veto it.”

“Got it. And where is the proud father?”

“In the bathroom. It shouldn't take him long. Oh, there he is, just in time to say goodnight.”

His father walked into the room almost tripping on a stuffed dragon, which elicited a protest from Gideon.

“Pah!”

“What did I say about not putting your toys away, young man?” he said, severe.

“I think it'll take him a few more months to understand that, Rumple.”

“I was talking to the thirty-five-year-old who should know better.”

“Oh, yes, him you can scold at your heart's content.” Belle gave him a kiss on the cheek. To Gideon, she said, “Say night-night, love. It's bedtime.”

Gideon waved with very little coordination. “Nie-nie.”

“Sure, leave your older brother to pick up the mess,” Neal said, and he could've swore he heard the little devil giggling away. He began picking toys up. “You know, you _could_ use your magic. Make everything easier.”

“Yes. And you _could_ give your brother a good example and teach him to put his toys away.”

“Oh, please, I'm the cool older brother. My job is to spoil him rotten.”

Rumple smiled and lowered himself onto the rocking chair in the corner, where Belle usually read for their son, but leaned forward in it instead of pushing back.

“You know the chair rocks, yes?” Neal asked.

His father said, “Back pain. It feels better like this.”

“You got the flu or something? You look a little pale.”

“I'm fine. You're skinny, though. Are you eating?”

“Yes, dad. I'm eating. Lots of fruits and vegetables.”

“If they're on top of pizza, that doesn't count.”

“Sure it does.”

Rumple smiled. “You are going to be a bad example.”

Neal started arranging the stuffed animals back on their shelves.

“So... fairy daughter,” he said.

“How subtle.”

“Yes, I know. I just want to know if you're okay with it.”

“Of course.”

Neal turned around to look at him. His father sustained the look for a moment, but then sighed. “It's a work in progress. I have a decade to get used to the idea.”

“Fairies are great. Not everyone is... you know.”

“A psychotic power-driven monster?”

“I was going to say 'like grandma', but you summarized it well.”

“Indeed, I did.”

Rumpelstiltskin went quiet, his right foot tapping the floor as he fidgeted with his hands. He didn't look up until Neal threw a pink teddy bear at him. It thudded softly on his short hair and fell on the floor. It didn't seem to bother him.

“What?”

“You're worrying over nothing.”

“I'm not.”

“Yes, you are, and you have every right to. Given what your mother put us through, I understand why you don't want anything to do with fairies. I might understand it better than Belle does.”

There was no arguing that. Death, in his own words, _sucked_ , but it wasn't nearly as bad as being brought back to life just to find himself under the control of that woman. His father knew this and he was paying attention now.

“But that is not something you have to think about now,” Neal continued. “The Blue Fairy said it herself-”

“What if she's wrong?”

“She's not wrong. Magic has its rules.”

“Yes, but rules can be broken.”

Neal stared at his father. “You've always been an advocate for 'magic comes with a price' and 'rules cannot be broken', but now you've changed your mind?”

“I... might.”

“On the ten-minute ride home?”

Rumpelstiltskin sighed and got up the chair. Neal waited as he paced the room.

“I'm worrying because of nothing,” his father said. “You're right.”

“Of course I'm right.”

Neal gave him a slap on the back. It wasn't too strong but it made him wince nonetheless.

“Cheer up, old man. By the time she reaches puberty, you'll be so concerned about boyfriends that fairyhood will be the least of your problems.”

 

*

 

Having a wife when you were trying to keep a secret was a complication. Rumpelstiltskin knew that all too well. For the rest of the night, he tried his best to act like everything was normal. He knew Belle and Bae were watching him closely, though he wasn't sure what they were waiting for. Another breakdown, perhaps, or that he smashed the nearest cabinet in a fit of rage – which, to be fair, was exactly what he wanted to do. Violence might solve nothing, but it'd make him feel so much better about his situation.

He thought of staying up under the pretense of spinning, but he knew Belle would offer to stay up with him and just telling her that he wanted to be alone would do nothing but worry her further, which was the last thing he wanted to do. Once dinner was over and Neal had left, they went about their night routine as usual, which ended with him reading out loud for her and the baby (Matilda was a lovely name for a girl, he thought as he was finishing a chapter, especially for a little sorceress).

Once he was sure Belle was deeply asleep, he got off the bed and locked himself in the bathroom. And then sealed the door with magic, just to be safe.

Upon arriving home, he'd ran into the master bedroom to check that the sharp pain on his back didn't mean what he thought it did, and although he _knew_ even before he'd taken his shirt off what he was about to see, he hoped his mind had simply played a trick on him. It was the stress of having to deal with the Blue Fairy, and the silly ideas she'd put in his head. Now that he'd calmed down, he'd take off his shirt and there would be nothing out of the ordinary.

Holding up Belle's makeup mirror, he stared at his own reflection on the larger mirror above the sink.

His hands began to shake.

 _This isn't happening_ , he thought. _This can't_ possibly _be happening_.

There had to be a problem with his eyes, or the mirror, anything! This couldn't be real.

He held the mirror in his hand higher, trying to get a better angle of his own reflection behind him. There was something on his back that wasn't there before. If he hadn't known what to look for, it might have gone unnoticed among the birth marks and sun spots, but it was there: two thin strips right in between his shoulder blades, like the scars left behind by a knife. They were about an inch long each, slightly inclined toward each other.

They didn't look like the pictures on the brochure he'd taken from Mother Superior's desk, they were much too small, but that didn't mean they wouldn't grow with time, and they were on the exact same spot as the wings he'd seen in the illustrations.

His fingers reached over the shoulder and poked at the skin. The pain made him wince. It was like having something sharp underneath the skin, pushing its way out. The fairy had warned them that this was going to hurt and it seemed that much was true. There was no doubt in his mind that there were wings beginning to form underneath his skin, and soon they'd spring out. In two or three days, that had been the Blue Fairy's estimate.

He wouldn't be able to keep this a secret then. He'd barely been able to rest against a pile of pillows without constantly rolling his shoulders to alleviate the pressure. Besides, if Belle saw those markings, she'd know what was happening. Everything else, he would be able to explain, but this he couldn't. Belle was too smart. It was surprising that she hadn't figured things out before him.

What was he to do? Avoid all physical contact and refuse to be naked in front of her from there on? Yes, Belle wouldn't find that suspicious _at all_.

Rumpelstiltskin put the mirror down before he dropped it on the floor and woke up his wife with the crash. He had to keep his wits about him. He'd never had fairy magic before, it made no sense that he'd develop it now, just short of three hundred years of age. He wasn't even of the right _gender_!

“Rumple?”

He swallowed down a scream and pressed his back to the cold tile on the wall. After a jab of pain, the feeling was actually soothing. His breathing only returned to normal when he remembered Belle couldn't get in.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, my dear, everything is fine.”

Silence.

“Do you want to talk?” she asked.

“I'm fine, Belle. It's nothing to do with- I'm coming out in a minute.”

“Alright, then.”

She didn't sound convinced, but her footsteps led her back to bed.

Rumpelstiltskin picked his pajama off the floor and buttoned it up. Two or three days. That was all the time he had to prevent this catastrophe from happening.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Mother Superior received him into her office without any of the warmth she'd shown Belle the week before. If Rumpelstiltskin was feeling a little fair, he'd remind himself that he'd sucked her and her sisters into a magical hat not two years ago, a fate worse than death, and that, technically, she'd never gotten a formal apology from him. He was probably her least favorite person in Storybrooke, and with good reason.

However, Rumpelstiltskin was not feeling fair, at all. He was exhausted and in pain and longing to take his frustration out on someone else. It wasn't a good combination and perhaps it'd have been wise to wait until his mood was a little more favorable before dealing with someone he disliked so intensely, but he'd already postponed the inevitable as much as he could.

He'd procured every book there was to know about the subject of fairies, and none had clear instructions on how to prevent this _condition_ to spread any further. He had a hunch that the key to that problem lied in one of the many tomes Belle was currently translating, but it would take her months to be done with it and he simply couldn't wait.

At least his wife had been _delighted_ to see him take an interest.

“I'm really happy that you're trying to understand this, Rumple, truly,” she'd said the night before.

He'd forced himself to smile at her, surrounded by open books. “I'm her father. I should at least try to... overcome my prejudice.”

Belle smiled in a way that made him feel guilty. After everything they'd gone through, she still thought the best of him.

“Just don't stay up all night, love. Time is on our side, after all.”

Rumple rolled his shoulders, feeling the stabbing pain in his muscles. Time was definitely not on _his_ side. In fact, he was already pushing his luck. The fact that his wings hadn't come out yet could only be classified as a miracle because he could feel them now, pinching his backfrom the inside. It was like having shards of glass underneath the skin and he had yet to find a book on how to ease the pain. Perhaps those crazy types just thought that there was something noble about suffering, that wouldn't surprise him one bit.

“I don't see how else I could help you, Mr. Gold,” Mother Superior said, sitting behind her desk just the week before. She looked ready to ask him to leave. “As I explained to you and your wife, this isn't something you have to think about right now.”

“I like to be prepared,” he said, curtly.

“I understand that. That is why I've lent you all those books-”

“Yes, and I'm reading them. I just encountered a couple of questions I'd like to clarify. Belle was right. You should always come to an expert with first hand knowledge and you, dearie, have centuries of knowledge.”

Flattery didn't seem to appease her. If anything, it only turned the fairy more suspicious. Despite all her shortcomings, not even Rumpelstiltskin could say the Blue Fairy wasn't clever.

“Where is Belle, anyway?”

“With Gideon. I didn't want to worry her.”

Mother Superior raised an eyebrow. “You found something to worry?”

“You're aware of who my mother is, I think that gives me the right to be concerned.”

“I don't see why,” she reassured him. “Regardless of how the Black Fairy turned out, there's no reason to believe your daughter might follow the same path.” She paused. “Unless that's what you-”

“Of course not!” he snapped.

Mother Superior nodded. “In that case-”

“That's not what worries me,” he said, leaning closer, resting his elbows on his knees. He didn't want to look intimidating, though he could see on the fairy's face that she thought that was exactly what he was trying to do. The back of his chair was as hard as a rock and it made his shoulders and back hurt. The markings on his skin had doubled in size since they first appeared and ice packs no longer helped soothe the pain.

“Well then?” Blue pressed.

“What will trigger it?”

“What?”

“Her transformation.”

Blue thought about it. “I wouldn't call it a transformation.”

“She'll gain a pair of wings and be infused with magic, how is that not a transformation?”

“She won't be _infused_ with magic, she'll be in tune with it.” She watched the confusion on his face. “Your brand of magic is very different from ours, Rumpelstiltskin.”

“How so?”

“Yours comes from some dark place inside of you-”

“Not anymore,” he stopped her. “My magic has changed.”

Blue seemed skeptical, but didn't argue with him. Instead, she said, “What is magic?”

“I didn't come here for a philosophical debate, fairy-”

“ _What_ is magic?” she insisted.

Rumpelstiltskin straightened his back and gave the door a glance, then he answered, “Power.”

“No,” she said, just as he expected. “ _Power_ is what you use it for. Magic, in itself, is a force of nature, much like air or water or fire. An object can be infused with magic, but people are nothing but conduits. That is why we have no magic beyond our boarders, because it was never inside of us to begin with.”

“You're not teaching my daughter your hippie philosophy.”

Mother Superior glared at him.

“Just so we're clear,” he said.

“I understand that you disagree-”

“I don't. I know that magic is everywhere, and in some worlds less than others, which is why I'm not worried about my mother. Even if Emma Swan never manages to track her down, she cannot harm anyone while she's out there. Not with magic, anyway.”

“And what is it that displeases you about my 'hippie philosophy'?”

“That you refuse to acknowledge that people are powerful, and that my daughter will change. She will be 'in tune', as you put it.”

“Yes.”

“And then she'll get wings.”

“After a few days.”

“Of everything that I've read so far, it seems to me that something has to trigger her change.”

“Only if she receives the gift by blood.”

Rumpelstiltskin stared at her.

“Right,” Mother Superior said. “I forgot. It's just so... unusual.”

“Well?” he insisted. “Will you answer my question?”

“Nowadays, fairies are chosen,” she explained, “and wings have to be earned. However, when a fairy is born with the gift, and after she reaches a certain age, that can be triggered by an act of kindness.”

He waited, but she didn't go on.

“That's it?”

“That's it.”

“So if she helps Granny cross the street, she might reach the other side with a pair of wings?”

Mother Superior considered it. “It varies from girl to girl. Something as simple as that might do, but not to others. And she won't spring wings out like that.” She snapped her finger. “It'll take time.”

“I can imagine.”

“Some girls used to require a personal sacrifice.”

He frowned. “Pardon me?”

“Not just an act of kindness, but one that also required a personal sacrifice. But that was very infrequent.”

“What if she doesn't want it, how would she go about that?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I wouldn't want you to stop your daughter's potential-”

“I have no intention to. But if she doesn't want to be one of you-”

“She's free to make her own path.”

“Yes, and if her own path was to _not_ become a fairy,” he insisted, “how would she stop it?”

Mother Superior didn't answer.

“ _Well_?”

“I don't feel comfortable having this conversation without your wife present.”

He glared at her. “You think I'm going to hurt my daughter.”

“I think this wouldn't be the first time you tried to alter your child's fate.”

“I didn't do anything to Gideon.”

“I didn't let you.”

“No, you let _my mother_ take him from us, like a good fairy godmother.”

The fairy lowered her eyes, in guilt. “And I have done everything in my power to make it up to him and Belle. I was there to protect them when the Black Fairy as defeated, or have you forgotten?”

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “Can I pass this on to Gideon?”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“Can I pass this on to Gideon? To my son or, or any other son I might have? Baelfire?”

“Gideon is male,” she said, as if the thought of that alone amused her. “Fairy magic doesn't transfer onto boys.”

“Magic isn't gendered.”

“Absolutely. But there's never been a case of it.”

“You didn't think fairies had sons either, but the exception is sitting in front of you.”

“And you're fine, and I don't appreciate your language.”

“My what?”

“Pass it on. We are not a disease.”

“That's debatable.”

She got up from her chair so fast that it startled him. For a second, he thought she was going to draw her magic wand out and start a confrontation, but she didn't. She simply said, “It's time for you to go.”

Her voice was so resolute, he didn't bother trying to change her mind.

 

*

 

Rumpelstiltskin needed a couple of hours of solitude, just so he could lie on his stomach with a pack of ice on his back and think this problem through. The Blue Fairy had been less than helpful, but maybe there was a fairy from her pack who'd be more open to dialogue.

As soon as the thought came to his mind, he dismissed it. No, they were a bunch of loyal sheep, and if they told Blue, then she would stop giving him the benefit of the doubt and contact Belle, and the entire thing would snowball out of control. He knew exactly how his wife would deal with the situation and he didn't want to go through that any more than he wanted a pair of glittery wings.

He materialized in the middle of the kitchen so he wouldn't have to walk and had just taken the ice tray from the freezer ( _What was the name of that one? Elsa? Elsa is not a terrible name for a girl._ ) when the sound of his wife's heels warned him that she was coming.

“Hey,” she said.

He blinked at her. “Do you want some juice? I'm getting orange juice.”

“We're out of orange juice.”

“Water, then. With ice.”

Belle shook her head and watched him fetch a glass.

“I was waiting for you in the living room,” she said.

“I got lazy and just-” he made a flourish with his hand.

“Right.”

“I thought you were taking Gideon to the park.”

“I was going to, but then I changed my mind.”

“Is he asleep?”

She indicated the door to the garden with a nod. Through the glass, he could see Neal rocking his brother.

He smiled. “We should hire him as a full-time nanny.”

She didn't smile back. “You're home early.”

“Slow day at the shop.”

Belle waited for him to sip from the glass before saying, “So you were at the shop.”

“Yes.”

“All afternoon.”

It wasn't a question.

Rumple put down his glass. Seemed like the fairy hadn't given him the benefit of the doubt, after all.

“That glorified butterfly called you.”

“Yes. The glorified butterfly got worried when you came by asking about how to stop our daughter from developing fairy magic.”

“She doesn't develop it,” he said. “She gets in tune with nature. Blue was very adamant about that.”

Belle stared at him. “ _Really_?” she snapped. “You want to debate _semantics_? Because that's not why I stayed home.”

“Whatever she's saying, Belle, she's blowing it way out of proportion.”

“Then why did you go to her behind my back?”

“I didn't go _behind your back_ ,” he said, getting defensive. “I just didn't ask for your permission, but now that I know I _need it_ -”

Belle raised a finger at him. “No, don't turn this on me, Rumpelstiltskin. Not when I'm giving you the chance to explain yourself-”

“Feels more like an accusation.”

“Not even a year ago you tried to pull the same thing on our son.”

“Yes, and ten months ago I traded my power to get him and Bae and _you_ safe.”

“And that is why I'm _back_!” Belle protested, taking a step toward him, only for her husband to take a step back in anger. “We're working on this together, but you can't go behind my back, asking these questions, and expect me not to be suspicious.”

“Because you think I'm a bad parent?”

“Because nothing good ever comes from you keeping secrets.”

“Well, I don't walk around wondering if you're going to take our daughter away from me-”

“That's not fair and you know it-”

“And since I seem to be the only person in this family who isn't in love with fairies-”

Belle raised her voice to call his attention. “I'm not in love with fairies!”

He raised his voice even louder. “You'll forgive me if I want to be prepared for when the time comes and our daughter wants out of a deal she didn't make.”

“ _That is her choice, not yours!_ ”

“ _I know it's her choice! But you seem ready to push her into that harpy's arms the moment she's born_ -”

“HEY!”

The both of them turned around to find Neal at the back door, looking at them as if he was ready to pull the both of them by their ears and drag them away. Outside, they heard Gideon whining.

“You guys know I have your son outside, right?” he asked, furiously. “If you can't keep it down, at least go scream at each other somewhere the baby can't hear it and be scarred for life, yes?”

Rumple looked at Belle, who was looking at her own shoes.

“Sorry, Bae,” he said, sheepish.

Belle followed, “Sorry, Neal. We'll be quiet.”

With nothing but a glare, Neal closed the door.

Belle nodded towards the second floor and Rumple followed her to their bedroom. He could have cast a silencing spell, but walking upstairs without exchanging a word seemed to calm the both of them down. Once away from Neal and Gideon's ears, Belle stood by the window and Rumple, by the door so he could slip away if things got out of control. After allowing each other a moment of silence to collect their thoughts, he was about to apologize when she turned to face him.

“What that woman did to us is unforgivable,” she said, her voice a lot softer. “What she did to _you_ manages to be even worse. I'm not under the delusion that all the fairies are good. You have every right to be afraid and to be in pain.”

There was no question in there, so Rumple took advantage of that fact to remain quiet.

“I don't want you to feel like you have to hide that pain from me, even though we have different opinions.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“And I know where this is coming from-”

“Oh, my dear, you have no idea,” he interrupted, before he could help himself.

Belle considered his words, then said, “Granted. I suppose I'll never fully understand this. But I do respect it. If you think that being prepared to help her avoid this is something that we should look into, I want to hear what you have to say.”

She paused and waited.

“That was all I wanted to say,” she told him, when he remained quiet. “I was going to, before we... got out of hand-”

“I didn't want you there.”

The confession escaped his lips so fast he didn't have time to think it through and could only regret it the moment he saw the look on Belle's face.

“I shouldn't keep secrets and I'm sorry,” he said. “But the truth is that I didn't want you there because you're missing the point completely.”

“Then why don't you enlighten me?” she asked, her voice pleading.

“You just think that-” he started, but the words died on his lips. How to put something this complicated into words?

Belle kept her eyes on him, anxious. She truly wanted to understand.

“You think I just don't want fairy magic because of my mother but it's not- this isn't how-”

He choked again.

Belle didn't say a word. Why couldn't she just slam a door? Or shout? Or drag the words out of him?

“Do you want me to call Dr. Hopper?” she offered. Sometimes, having the therapist in the room actually helped, even though he didn't like to admit it.

“No,” Rumple said, quickly. “No, I don't want him. I don't want- I don't want _her_. And you just don't see it. You're so caught up on how _wonderful_ a fairy daughter might be that you're...”

“Yes?” she pressed, gently.

“That you haven't thought that... some day... our daughter will wake up with part of that monster inside of her and she won't know what to do with herself. And you're going to do your- you're going to be the typical glass-half-full person you are and tell her that it doesn't matter and that she'll make her own magic, and you'll fail to realize that this has nothing to do with magic or darkness, that it's her mother-her grandmother. It's that horrible woman, chasing our child down. I want to give her the chance to leave that all behind.”

Rumpelstiltskin stopped talking. Belle was watching him from the window, her expression cautious as she waited for him to say something else. He didn't.

“You're right,” she said. “I didn't think of that. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry,” he asked. “I should've told you. Dr. Hopper won't approve of the secrecy.”

“I promise not to tell, if you don't tell him I got all up in arms.”

“Deal.”

He offered a hand to her, tentatively. Belle took it without hesitation and pulled him into her arms. When her hand brushed over the back of his jacket, igniting the sensitive skin underneath, he thought it was worth it.

“It'll turn out fine, you'll see,” she told him. “Whatever it is that she decides to do, we'll be there for her.”

She tried to let him go and look into his eyes, but he only squeezed her tired.

“Rumple?”

He buried his face in the crook of her neck.

“Rumple, what is it?”

“And if she's unhappy about it, you'll help her get rid of it, yes?”

“It's too soon to even think about it-”

“But if she were, you wouldn't judge her for it.”

“No. Of course not. I'd never want our daughter to be unhappy.”

“What if it's not her?” he asked, the question barely audible.

Now she took a step back to look at him, though her husband kept her eyes on the floor. “What do you mean?”

Silence.

“Rumple? You're worrying me, what do you mean?”

His words came out as a sigh. “I think it's happening to me.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Undressing was the the hardest. He'd told himself the only reason he hadn't told Belle of his condition was because he didn't want to have to deal with her positive attitude as she convinced him that fairy magic was a blessing and that he should be thankful for it, but now that he was working the buttons on his shirt he knew that wasn't true. In just a few days, she was about to be married to an aberration with wings. She'd say it didn't matter but Rumpelstiltskin hated that he had to put her through this, especially given all the other difficult parts of him that she'd had to accept and learn to love.

Belle didn't hurry him as he stripped off his jacket and took an eternity to unbutton his vest and shirt, and when he finally stood in front of her, naked from the waist up, all she said was, “Oh my darling, this looks painful.”

The two small markings between his shoulder blades had stretched into thin, vertical slits of four inches each. Though the skin kept close together, Rumple could pull them open, though doing that had been so blindingly painful he was in no rush to repeat the experiment. He had no idea how a pair of wings could fit through them, and if it hurt that bad every time a fairy had to fly, he would gladly keep his feet on the ground. The skin around them was red and sensitive to the touch so the moment Belle brushed over it, he flinched.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

“It's fine. Even that shirt was killing me.”

“That- those- your back was not like this last week.”

“It's been six days. It began right after we went to see the fairy. Immediately after. Perhaps it was the stress.”

“I... how...”

Rumpelstiltskin looked over his shoulder. The look on Belle's face made him laugh.

“You look even more confused than I am,” he explained.

“I _am_ confused. I mean, this makes sense now that you told me. It makes perfect sense. The nausea, the, uhn-”

“The very public emotional breakdown?”

“Yes, that. But how did you...”

“I don't know.”

Belle waited for him to say something else. When he didn't, she said, “I thought you'd have a logical explanation.”

“I don't. My best guess is that giving up my curse somehow triggered this change.”

He picked the shirt off the floor and put it on again. Despite the discomfort of fabric against his sensitive skin, it was better than being exposed like this.

“You didn't tell me.”

He looked at her. “No, I didn't.”

“Because of all the things you said? You think I'll bully you into keeping this?”

“I might also have been embarrassed.”

“Of what?”

“Of _what_? Your beastly husband is about to spring _wings_.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “You're going to take up even more bed space than you already do.”

“Don't make jokes.”

“I'm not. We're going to need a larger bed.”

Despite the situation, he smiled.

“So,” she said, “when you were talking about our daughter growing up with a part of that horrible woman inside of her-”

“Yes.”

“And you asked Mother Superior how to remove-”

“Also yes.”

Belle nodded. “I asked her if you could do it. When she called. I wanted us to be on the same page.”

He wondered if Belle had asked Blue that information just to be safe, in case he made a terrible decisions and tried to harm their child, but decided not to ask. One heartbreak at a time.

“You can only remove fairy magic by taking away a fairy's wings,” she told him. “But will hardly work for you.”

“Why is that?”

“Because your wings are still forming, it seems. Besides, that would probably leave you powerless, and I think you'd want to avoid that.”

“I would.”

“And there is also the, uhn,” she cleared her throat, “the _gore_ of it.”

“Can't the fairy remove them?”

“Yes, when she grants them. But you are, well, 'born' with them. It'll be like amputating an arm.”

He stopped buttoning his shirt and looked at her. “Are you serious?”

“According to Mother Superior.”

“Perfect. That is just perfect.”

Belle took over the job of buttoning up his shirt and tuck it into his pants. She rested both hands on his chest.

“I need to say something that you are not going to like,” Belle told him.

“When does that ever stop you, my dear?”

“If you want to get rid of this, I will help you.”

Rumple looked at her, waiting for the bad news.

“I am not going to lie. The fact that you now have light magic makes me relieved,” she admitted. “But that is not what matters here. If you feel that being a fairy-”

“Fae.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It's the... closest to a gender-neutral term that I could find. Fae. Not that it makes much of a difference.”

“Fae,” she repeated. “If becoming a fae is like having a part of your mother inside of you, I don't want you to go through this torture. I mean, I'm just now mending my relationship with my dad, and what you went through is much worse. If it will make you happy to go back to the way you were, I will do my best to help you get rid of this and keep your powers.”

“Right,” he said, cautious. “What about the part that I won't like?”

“It's possible that it will be a long time before we can figure out a solution, and these symptoms won't go away until you finish your transition.”

He sighed. “Don't tell me, please, don't tell me...”

“It seems to me that the best thing you have to do right now is learn how to handle this the best you can.”

“Belle-”

“You don't have to embrace it,” she said. “Far from it. But unless you learn how to maintain it, you're just in for another ten months of discomfort.”

“You can't expect me to welcome the Blue Fairy into our home and become her pupil! I'd rather give dismemberment a try.”

“Yes, you _could_ try that, but first you need wings and...”

She peeked behind him.

“Point taken,” he said, begrudgingly. “But that only attests to her incompetence. That glitter-covered moth said two to three days. It's been six and all I got to show for myself is back pain.”

Belle thought about it. “Perhaps male fae take longer?”

“Oh god,” he groaned. “She's going to make me her guinea pig.”

“Well, you can't go through this without help, Rumple, and our books will only take us so far.”

He was about to reply when Neal knocked on the door. “Did the grownups calm down?”

“Yes, Bae, but I need you to keep your brother for a little longer.”

“Okay. We'll be in the playroom when you're done talking.” From the other side of the door, they heard him talk to Gideon. “Lets go, kid. We have toys to spread on the floor.”

Gideon giggled in agreement.

Rumple shook his head, allowing himself to smile. “Who knew Bae would turn out to be the bad influence-”

He noticed the look on Belle's face. She had just found a solution.

“What is it, what?” he said, anxiously.

Belle pointed at the door. “Neal is friends with Tinker Bell.”

Rumple could feel his own heart sinking.

“No.”

“Think about it, Rumple. She's not a nun, but she's still a fairy, and she's friends with your son. If Neal talked to her and explained your situation-”

“Telling Bae? Of _this_?”

“And no one else. She could help you transition while I try to find a way to return you to the way you were.”

“But telling _Bae_!”

He paced the room. Belle waited.

“You do it,” he finally decided. “You do it, I can't.”

“Okay.”

“I hate this.”

“I know, love.”

“I really, _really_ hate this.”

“I know.”

“I was not supposed to be this, Belle. I'm a sorcerer. I'm not... this.”

“We'll make you a sorcerer again. But until then...”

“Until then...” Rumpelstiltskin sighed and pointed at the door. “Go get him before they bring that entire room down.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Neal gave his father a brief biography for Tinker Bell. They'd met in Neverland, when a disagreement with a mermaid left her stranded on its shore, and they'd become friends and allies. She'd had problems with the Blue Fairy in the past that had resulted in her wings being taken away, but once she'd proved herself, her wings had been returned and now she was a fairy again.

Sometimes, Rumpelstiltskin spotted her and Neal together and they seemed to be close friends. He couldn't remember ever seeing her with the other fairies, though. Despite the fact that she had her wand and wings, she didn't live in the convent, but rather above the library, in the apartment that had once belonged to Belle.

“See? She didn't have to join the cult,” Belle teased him, as Neal explained of Tinker Bell's unique arrangement.

Rumple still wasn't sure if trusting someone outside the family was a good idea. Neal's uncontrollable laughing fit when Belle told him the news didn't help improve his trust either. In the end, though, he was desperate for a solution and this was the closest they'd gotten to one.

By the time his son arrived home with his fairy friend, he was a wreck.

“Come in, Tink, come in. You remember Belle, don't you?”

“Of course,” Tinker Bell said, giving Belle a hug. She was a cute, small-framed woman.

 _That's how a fairy's supposed to look like_ , he thought.

Neal continued the introductions. “The baby she's holding is my kid brother, Gideon, and in the other hand, she's got my dad, Rumpelstiltskin. But you can call him Mr. Gold, if you think that's a mouthful.”

“Ah, yes, the Dark One,” she said, using his title as if it amused her. “Blue does not like you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” he said, indicating the couch for her to sit.

Belle pulled him to the other couch with her before he had the chance to pace the room – or run away, which was still a possibility in his mind. Neal took Gideon and stood right behind his friend, rocking his little brother.

“So? What is the big emergency?” Tink asked, after a moment of silence.

“It's not... so much an emergency. It's more like a secret,” Neal said.

“A secret?”

“Yes.”

“One that you should keep from your friend, the Blue Fairy,” Rumple added.

“If you don't want to do that, we'll understand,” Belle said.

“Is this like a dark magic secret?”

Rumple shook his head. “No.”

“Are we... killing someone?”

“No! Of course not!” Belle answered, baffled at the question.

“Just wanted to check. Is Blue going to be mad if we keep this from her?”

Rumple scoffed. “That'd be something.”

“She won't,” Belle reassured her. “This is just a personal matter. And if she is, I'll deal with her.”

“Yes, she doesn't get a say in this,” Rumple added.

Tinker Bell looked from Belle to Rumple. “You guys got me curious. What is this big secret?”

“Well,” Neal said, “you are aware that my grandmother, his mother, she is the-”

“The Black Fairy.”

“Yes.”

“What about her? Did she come back?” Tink perked up.

“No, no. Emma is still tracking her down, but there's no sign of her anywhere.”

“She's not the reason we're here,” Rumple cut in.

“What is it?”

“We want a fairy's opinion on a delicate matter and dad doesn't want to go to Blue, given their history.”

“Is that because he sucked all the fairies into a magical hat?”

Neal stared at her. “Wait, what?”

Rumpelstiltskin asked, “You were not one of them, were you?”

“I was not.”

“Good. Then it doesn't matter.”

“You sucked all the fairies into a magical hat?” Neal asked, on the verge of shouting.

In his arms, Gideon giggled.

 _Well, at least someone in this family shares my sense of humor_.

“I'm starting to see why you're not Blue's favorite person,” Tink said, though she looked more curious than affronted.

“Yes, well, he's very sorry about that. Aren't you, love?”

Belle looked at him. Rumple didn't say anything.

“ _Aren't_ you, love?”

“Yes. So very much so.”

Neal muttered, “We're gonna have a conversation about that magical hat, once this is over.”

“What is it that you need my help with?” Tink asked.

“Dad's been feeling... some changes since the last encounter with the Black Fairy and he wanted to ask some questions.”

“It sounds like you should be in Dr. Hopper's office,” Tink said. “He seems more equipped to helping you deal with kicking your estranged mother out of town.”

“That's not it,” Rumple said, but didn't elaborate.

Tink waited. “Are you guys going to let me in on the secret at all?”

Belle looked at his father, who motioned for him to deliver the news.

“Rumple thinks he's becoming a fairy.”

Tink's answer was immediate, “Men can't become fairies-”

“Alright, let me stop you right there,” Rumple said, leaning forward. “I just wasted two entire days trying to convince _him_ -” he pointed at Neal, “that what I have is a fairy blood problem, and that I'm not simply imagining things, I can't go through another _thirty minutes_ of repeating every argument I have trying to convince you otherwise,” Rumple said. “I know what the books say and I know what the Blue Fairy told you and that there has never been a man with fairy magic before, but I have it. I have every symptom and I am growing wings, so lets not waste time debating how I'm probably wrong and you're probably right just to conclude that I was right all along, yes?”

“It's true, Tink,” Belle said, resting her hand on top of his arm to calm him down. “He's shown me the wings.”

She drew her eyebrows closer together and Rumple feared she was going to ask him to show it to her as well, but then she asked, “Nausea and headaches?”

“What?”

“Have you had any nausea or headaches?”

“Regularly since that night.”

“Mood swings?”

“Haven't you heard of my breakdown at Granny's?”

“Granted. Any magical outbursts? Making things explode?”

“No,” he said, suddenly hopeful.

“I didn't expect there to be any, given your experience. People who were born into the fae folk were less likely to be out of control when their magic surfaced. Any levitating episodes?”

“Levitating- what? No!”

She turned to Belle. “Just an inch above your mattress would already be considered an episode-”

“I don't levitate!”

“He doesn't levitate, Tink. Not that I have seen it.”

“That's unusual. How about wands?”

“What about them?”

“Have you ever been able to use one?”

“Lots of people use wands.”

She stared at him.

It was Rumple's turn to frown. “They... don't?”

“People try, but very few are successful. Are you telling me that it comes naturally to you?”

“I've been a practitioner of magic for over two hundred years.”

“Wow,” she said, truly impressed. “It took me forever to learn.”

“Yes, I'm a prodigy.”

“Dad...”

“I only have one last question.”

“Yes?”

“Your so called 'wings'.”

She made quotation marks with her fingers.

“I'm not showing them to you,” he warned her.

“No need. Are they out?”

“Do they look out to you?”

“No, no, I mean...”

Tink got up from her chair and took off her sweater, revealing a tank top. “What I mean is, can you do this?”

She shrugged and a pair of green, insect-like wings unfolded from her back. They were thin and delicate and seemed to sparkle. Gideon stared at them mesmerized and even Neal said, “Wow, that's... wow.”

With another shrug, they retracted. She repeated the motion twice with much ease. Gideon whined and reached for them with grabby hands, but Neal kept him out of reach.

“Are you at a point where you can do that?”

“No. I can't do that. May I- I mean, I don't want to be inappropriate but-”

“You want to look at my back.”

“If you don't oppose.”

The fairy seemed to consider it, then looked at Belle, asking for her permission.

“Yes, please,” she said. “As long as you don't mind.”

Tink sat down on the coffee table with her back to them – Rumple noticed that Neal quickly walked around it to get a better view. Her tank top had a low cut in the back. Rumpelstiltskin was not surprised to find two thin slits between her shoulder blades, even more discreet than his, no longer than three inches each.

“His look like this,” Belle said. “But it's inflamed and red.”

“And it doesn't do this?”

She shrugged again. The slits opened just for a second, and her wings unfolded so fast both Belle and Rumple threw themselves back. Neal and Gideon started laughing.

“That is awesome, Tink!” Neal said.

“How do they even fit?” Belle asked, haunted.

“Magic,” she answered with simplicity.

“Does that hurt?” Neal asked, and Rumple was glad that he didn't have to be the one to ask that question.

“No,” Tink said, returning to her seat. “The first time, it sucks. Lots of blood. But after that, it's like flexing a finger.”

Neal asked. “Can you feel them?”

“Like your bones.” To Rumple, she said, “It hurts like hell when they're being formed, though.”

“I know.”

“Like shards of glass.”

“That's a very accurate description.”

“It shouldn't last long. I've never met anyone whose wings took longer than three or four days.”

“It's been eight days.”

Tink stared at him. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

For a moment, she seemed to think about that, and then she frowned. “Are you resisting it?”

“He's not welcoming it,” Belle said.

“Why?”

“Because I don't want wings,” Rumple said. “In fact, I want nothing of this.”

“You want to get rid of it?”

“Yes!”

She hissed. “In your case, that can get messy.”

“So I've heard.”

“It's unpleasant enough when your wings are granted,” Tink said. “When they're part of your _biology_ , removing them will be like cutting off an arm-”

“Okaaay, auntie Tinker Bell,” Neal said, forcing a cheerful tone in his voice as he rocked Gideon up and down, “lets mind our words in front of the baby!” Then, very discreetly, he pointed at his father and mouthed the words, “He's freaking out!”

She nodded. “Right, sorry. Silly Tinker Bell.” To Rumple, she asked, “Have you given any thoughts to just... accepting this?”

“And joining your little cult? No, thank you, I'd rather try dismemberment.”

“Rumple, c'mon.”

“Dad, really, they're not a cult.”

“Really?” Rumple asked. “Do any of you have any idea what a fairy is?”

Neal looked at him. He'd never really given it much thought and Tink hadn't answered his millions of invasive questions when he was younger. Belle seemed ready to try an answer, but Rumple didn't give her a chance.

“You have to swear allegiance to Blue's little army and slave away as her minion. You have to swear off what they consider 'irresponsible behavior' and promise to be obedient to your superior fairy.”

“Is irresponsible behavior like drinking?” Neal asked.

“Love,” Tink said. “Fairies aren't supposed to form romantic attachments.”

“Why?”

“Because they're self-righteous, that's why.”

“Dad!”

“No offense to you,” Rumple said to the fairy. “You seem to be... a reasonable one.”

“Thank you?”

“The thing is, Tink,” Belle said, before her husband could ruin the arrangement before it even had the chance to start, “given that Rumple doesn't want to keep his wings, we don't want to involve other people in this.”

“I can understand that.”

“But since he's transitioning and we might take a long time to return him to the way he used to be, we thought that perhaps you could help him.”

Tinker Bell looked at Rumple, then at Belle, and back to Rumple, surprised at the request.

“Wait, are you asking me to... teach you to become a fae?”

“How to _deal_ with fairyhood,” Rumple corrected her. “Most urgently, how to deal with the painful formation of wings, so if we could start on that-”

Suddenly, the fairy was holding his hand. Before he had the chance to snap it away, she'd leaned closer and whispered, “Rumpelstiltskin, it will be an honor and a privilege to help you down this path of self-discovery.”

Rumple stared at her. “It will?”

“Seriously?” Neal asked.

“Not many fairies have the chance to help another sister- sorry, another _brother_ become the fae they are meant to be and I will take this role very seriously.”

“Don't be so solemn, dearie,” he said, finally freeing his hand from her clutch. “You're a temporary solution.”

“And I will be the _best_ temporary solution I can be,” she vowed. “I'll help you through the pain, I'll teach you how to use a wand-”

“I know how to use a wand-”

“And I'm going to teach you how to fly. Oh!”

She jumped to her feet, startling the three of them.

“Wait here! I got the perfect way to start this!”

When she left, he looked at Belle, who tried to look reassuring, and Neal, who seemed vaguely worried.

“I'm not having flight lessons from that girl,” Rumple said.

“It's fine, papa, she's just... excited to help.”

“I guess passing on knowledge is a big deal for fairies,” Belle said.

In ten minutes, Tinker Bell was back, smiling from ear to ear. She had a bag with her that she immediately offered to Rumpelstiltskin. The smell of it hit his nose first and his stomach started to rumble, even though he wasn't hungry.

“What is this?” he asked, cautious.

“It's for you,” she answered. “It's ice cream.”

“How did you get it so fast?” Neal asked.

“I have wings.” To Rumple, she said, “Pretty soon you're going to develop a sweet tooth and this is the best way to deal with it.”

“By feeding me processed sugar-”

He peeked inside and his complaint died. Strawberry flavor. Deliciously sweet and cold. This was more enticing than the smell of flowers.

He handed it to Belle. “Lock this away before I make a poor decision.”

“Don't worry,” Tink said, as Belle walked away with his strawberry ice cream. “Flying burns calories. Now, give me your hand.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a gift for you, of course.”

He looked at Neal, who said, “Go on, don't be rude.”

Rumpelstiltskin sighed and got off the couch. He extended his hand with his palm up. Tinker Bell dropped something small and round on it. He looked at it and frowned.

“It's a... hazelnut.”

“Yes.”

“Why are you giving me a hazelnut?”

“Tradition. We're going to hollow it and you're going to use it to keep fairy dust.”

“Why can't I just use a vial?”

She stared at him. “You _could_ , some people do. But this is traditional.”

“Right. Well. Thank you, I suppose.”

“The kid and I will leave you both to talk,” Neal said. “Say bye-bye, Gideon.”

Rumple waved at his sons, but his eyes were focused on the hazelnut in his hand.

Hazelnut.

Hazel.

Hazel was a lovely name for a baby girl.

“Now, Dark One,” Tink said, taking the spot on the couch that Belle had left behind, “Let's talk about your wing. Have you tried an ice pack?”

 


End file.
